“God, You love me”


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sleep and You love me

I wake and You love me

I call and You love me

I fall and You love me

I try and You love me

I cry and You love me

I’m hopeless, You love me

I’m faithless, You love me

God, You love me

Just as I am

 

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Rather than Judging


 

 

 

 

 

 

Judging points out the thorn and missesĀ  the rose

It sees the wrong stroke on a beautiful painting – blind to the artist’s heart

Judging finds the crooked stitch on a quilt – removing its warmth

It shows the chip out of a wooden chair – not as a place to sit and rest

When you judge – you become the thorn

You paint the wrong stroke

You sew the crooked stitch

You become the tool that chips the wood

You could be the softness and the scent of that rose – drawing others near

You could be the pallet and the vastness of its colors – brushing beauty

You could be a thread that weaves us together

You could polish the grain of the wood – allowing the tree to live again

Rather than judging – choose to be the painting of the rose on the quilt

over the chair.